Comfortably Numb
by geekischic
Summary: Thirteen-centric songfic based on the Pink Floyd song Comfortably Numb. How is Thirteen dealing with the fact that she's dying? Full summary inside.


Hello, is there anybody in there

**Warning: Angst ahoy.**

**A/N: All right, here it is: my first House fic. Let me start by saying that Thirteen is one of my absolute favorites on the show. This fic might make me seem anti-Thirteen, but I'm definitely not. It's just another point of view to her character that I felt like exploring. This story is all about Thirteen battling with her Huntington's disease, and coming to terms with what she feels is the only way to defeat it. The whole story is based on the Pink Floyd song Comfortably Numb, and the lyrics appear as breaks in the story (all my fic ideas seem to come to me as I listen to The Wall over and over again). Hope you enjoy. :)**

-o0o-

_Hello, is there anybody in there?_

_Just nod if you can hear me_

_Is there anyone home?_

Remy stared at her reflection with disbelief, wondering if this image was truly what she looked like. Her wide green eyes looked heavy and tired, as if her eyelids were too heavy to hold up. Her gaze was empty and dull, and if she looked closely enough, she swore she could see a speck of the fog that clouded her mind in them. Her hair was wild and messy, as she hadn't bothered to brush it yet. Remembering how happy she used to be, she was disappointed to find this shell of the woman she'd once been. But receiving the news that you're dying does tend to have that effect on you.

She sighed and scrubbed her hands over her face, as if that motion could wipe away the traces of unhappiness that had slowly become permanent. The heavy depression that crept up on her every now and again was gradually making another appearance, and she knew what the remedy for that was. She hated being alone on nights like this, when her sadness came close to being too much to bear.

So, she picked up the stick of black eyeliner that lay next to the sink and carefully outlined her eyes, hoping to take away some of the sadness that lingered there. A soft pink blush was brushed on next to help return some of the color to her drained cheeks. A pink lipstick completed her makeup, and she then headed to her closet to find an attractive outfit to wear. After finding a pair of snug jeans and a low cut red blouse, she shut off the lights of her apartment and grabbed her keys, ready to visit her favorite bar. Soon, she'd have a partner to share the night with so she wouldn't drown in the despair that always seemed on the brink of consuming her.

_Come on, I hear you're feeling down_

_Well I can ease your pain, get you on your feet again_

_Relax, I need some information first.  
Just the basic facts, can you show me where it hurts?_

_  
_Remy sat at the edge of the bed, quietly ignoring the woman who shared it with her. Her hair was askew, her shirt tossed to the side, her jeans unbuttoned and unzippered, but her head was in a fog. She felt exhaustingly tired, strange considering she hadn't taken any drugs yet. She was vaguely aware of the other woman's lips kissing their way down her neck and across her shoulders, but this unknown distraction prevented her from fully giving into the actions that this mystery woman was participating in.

She leaned her head back, giving full access to the blonde who was intent on pleasuring her. What had been her name again? Katie? Kaitlyn? Katrina? Remy hadn't paid attention to the woman's words when she'd spotted her in the bar. All she'd noted was that the woman was gorgeous, easily a nine out of ten. And that's all she'd cared about tonight. She couldn't bear to be alone for another night. For all she knew, it could be her last night on earth, and she wouldn't want to spend it alone. So she'd ushered the woman back to her place and proceeded with the ritual, though tonight it felt less that half hearted.

Remy turned her head to look into the blonde's eyes, which had easily darkened with desire as their charades had continued. She allowed her bright green eyes to drift closed and her fingers to trace across the contours of her partner's face, but tonight she just couldn't focus on the routine she'd become all too comfortable with. Even as the woman's fingers hurriedly unclasped her bra and threw the garment to the side, even as they'd both forcibly crashed onto the bed, even as the woman's tongue danced across her skin, Remy simply wasn't interested in what this woman was offering her.

She was aware of the blonde's hands sliding down her bare back. She knew that their lips were crushed together, that their legs were entangled as they fought for dominance. She went through the motions of the encounter, but felt nothing as she went through them. It was like her body had just gone numb, so she couldn't feel the other woman's ministrations. Her skin was dead and she couldn't feel the paths that were traced along her back.

This wasn't right. Every time she had a one night stand, her mind shut off and her body went into overdrive. The process seemed to be stuck in reverse tonight. Her body felt nothing as the torrent of thoughts crushed her. For the first time, she asked herself what she was doing, but she angrily pushed the thought away. She wanted to go back to the way things were, when she could lose herself in the comfort of a stranger's arms. There was no pity, no sadness, no fear in the arms of someone who didn't know her secret, and that allowed her to feel almost normal. But all that was different tonight.

Yes, her head was still swimming from the vodka she'd downed. She had her drugs sitting in their rightful place in her dresser, ready for use when the stranger fell asleep. But something was wrong tonight. The blissful comfort of feeling numb in the presence of an unknown person was painfully absent, so Remy slipped into the farthest reaches of her empty mind as she continued to kiss this stranger.

_There is no pain, you are receding_

_A distant ship's smoke on the horizon_

_You are only coming through in waves_

_Your lips move, but I can't hear what you're saying._

It was dark and quiet now. Moonlight slipped through the cracks of the curtains and stretched from the window to the tangled sheets of the bed. Remy was still wide awake as her partner slept, her tortured thoughts stubbornly keeping her awake. She laid perfectly still, as if doing so could freeze her in time at this moment. She'd like that. It would be forever quiet and peaceful, and never again would she have to worry about the death sentence looming over her head. It was so calm in this one moment. The only sound was the deep breathing of the woman sleeping next to her, which was surprisingly relaxing. She kept her eyes open to survey the dark room, for once actually enjoying being alone in her thoughts. What if this darkness could last forever? What if she never had to worry about work or girlfriends or Huntington's ever again? The thought appealed to her as her eyes slipped closed, wondering if she ever had to open them again.

_Okay, just a little pinprick  
There'll be no more (aaahh)  
But you may feel a little sick._

Darkness had once again rolled around for Remy. Only this time she was truly alone. No one night stand, no intruding cell phone calls, not even the haze of drugs accompanied her as she sat in complete awareness. It was so quiet, so dark, so calm, and she found herself once again wondering if death would be this comfortable.

This was so unlike her. She'd never felt this alone and pained before. She'd always had darkness looming over her head, even before she'd been diagnosed, but never before had she allowed her thoughts to drift to this extreme. But, as much as it scared her, it made perfect sense at the same time. This was the only way she could truly beat the disease that fate had forced her to live with. This was the only way she could truly escape the hell it had trapped her in to. She'd come to this decision with a clear and sober mind, so she knew that it was a valid decision. Now she just had to go through with it.

The plastic bottle felt cool in her hand. Even in the darkness, she could see the shiny orange plastic calling out to her. It was like a beacon that was calling her home, and she was willingly stepping toward it. With a shaky breath and fumbling fingers, she twisted the cap off and poured the tiny white caplets into her hand. They looked so small and innocent, these tiny white pills that would house her death.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as her fingers curled around the pills. She found her mind buzzing with questions as her conscious became painfully aware. How long would it take for the darkness to become permanent? Would it take long for someone to find her? When the paramedics arrived, would they be able to tell exactly how long she'd been gone? Would they know the exact minute she had died? Would her last thoughts and words be evident on her face, or would they be forever lost in the land of eternal sleep?

As that last thought flitted through her mind, she opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. She didn't like the idea of her last thoughts never being known, though she wasn't sure who would want to hear them. Even still, after seeing a pen and notepad on the nightstand, she picked them up and paused to try to word what she wanted to say in her final farewell to the world. But, when the pen finally touched the paper, the words she wrote weren't her own:

_When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse_

_Out of the corner of my eye._

_I turned to look, but it was gone._

_I cannot put my finger on it now_

_The child has grown._

_The dream is gone._

_I have become comfortably numb._

**-End-**


End file.
